


The Gecko's Tale

by AngryLittleOctopus



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Cause we're about to be dealing with some heavy shit, Eventual Happy Ending, Found Family, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I hope you brushed up on some proper lifting techniques, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Pre-Canon, Slow Build, but there's a good 10-15 years between them, oh yea forgot there's probably gonna be sex too, technically canon compliant, the works ya know?, they're both adults, you can't prove this didn't happen so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryLittleOctopus/pseuds/AngryLittleOctopus
Summary: We can't control who stumbles into our lives or how our destinies intertwine.Munehisa Iwai is a single father working on burying his past to give his son a better future. He doesn't want any trouble, especially none that'll effect his son Kaoru, but outcasts only attract each other.Nikko Akiyama is running from an abusive ex and finds himself under the protection of an airsoft shop owner with secrets perhaps darker than Nikko's own.Iwai may have done bad things in his past, but deep down he's a good guy. Perhaps he can show this runaway that he deserves to be happy, to be loved. Healing is a long, winding path with no map to be guided by, but they've promised to walk it together, wherever it may take them.Who knows? When it's all over, maybe Nikko will learn what it's like to be part of family--and maybe a family can be a runaway, an orphaned boy, and the man who united them both beneath a gecko crest.
Relationships: Iwai Munehisa/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	The Gecko's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, we be dealin with some shit okay? This is 100% a self indulgent fic and ya'll are just along for the ride.
> 
> Also I'll be adding more tags maybe as chapters progress if I feel the need/anyone asks for anything specific.  
> 

_Untouchable._ The word was sketched out in neon ink across the dark. Nikko could’ve cried from relief, haloed beneath the fluorescent hum that seemed to whisper promises of safety on the other side. His heart was still pounding, a sledgehammer beating against the inside of his chest. Just a few more steps. A few more steps and it would all be over—at least for now. At least for tonight.

Nikko took that final step. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he reached for the door. Blood pounded in his ears and beneath the bruised side of his face, a constant reminder of what he was running from, why he was here in front of a place he’d never been to, ready to beg a stranger to take him in. The sign was a sign, right? It had to be, the way it called to him from the street. He’d never been inside—didn’t even know what they sold here—but the jolt he felt in every nerve of his body when he passed by had to mean something, right? _Untouchable_. He would be untouchable. This was his only chance at escape; he had nowhere else to go. Nikko took a deep breath to steady his nerves, counting in his head to slow the panicked pacing of his thoughts. Grasping the door handle so hard his knuckles turned white, he pulled.

The door was locked.

Or maybe it wasn’t? Nikko pulled on the door once more. When it didn’t budge, he pushed, and when it still didn’t budge, he pulled again. Suddenly, the world became a long dark tunnel tilting dangerously on its axis, and at the end was a locked door smiling beneath a green neon sign.

“No…” Nikko pulled and pushed again and again. “No. This can’t be.” He’d made it so far. After everything he’d been through tonight, was it all for nothing? He had no one he could call, no one he could trust not to rat him out. And time was running out. How long had he been gone? Did Rei know yet? Was he being followed? Every shadow seemed to take Rei’s shape, watching, waiting for right moment to pounce, to _punish_ him for leaving. He’s going to be so mad when…

 _When._ Not if. The word slid like ice in his veins. He couldn’t breathe past the knot in his throat. The bruises covering his neck pulsed with the memory of the hand that put them there, how tightly they could— _would_ —squeeze.

Nikko pressed his forehead against the cool uncaring glass. _Untouchable_ wasn’t a safe haven; it was nothing more than a cruel joke. The only thing untouchable was the freedom he’d imagined on the other side of a locked glass door. He’d been so close…

“Hey. Can’t you see the shop’s closed?” A voice barked from the shadows.

Nikko spun around. For a moment the silhouette standing in the dark was all too familiar: broad shoulders, dark boots, angry unreadable eyes. Nikko could already feel the vice-like hand closing around his throat again. This time he knew it wasn’t going to let go.

“What, you just gonna stand there? Or am I gonna have to call the police?” The stranger crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at Nikko from beneath the brim of a hat. No, this man wasn’t Rei, and right now that was all that mattered.

“Are you the shop owner?” Nikko asked, the words trembled through his throat like the sound of spilling tears.

* * *

Iwai stiffened, shifting from one foot to the other as he studied the stranger rattling his shop’s door. Wasn’t one of his regulars, that’s for sure, and they didn’t seem like the kind of kid the yakuza would recruit. They looked more like a drowned rat than a thug, not that he could tell given the pulled-up hood throwing shadows across their face. Probably just some junkie looking for an easy steal; though, it never hurt to be too careful.

“Who’s asking?”

“Please, I need your help.” It was like the guy hadn’t even heard his question. He—Iwai was pretty certain now—just prattled on like a prerecorded message, his voice getting quicker every time it broke like a scratched record running out of time. “I just need a place to stay for tonight—just one night—and, and this guy I knew he s-said that the owner of this place was an upstanding guy, right? And I thought… Please, I don’t have any where else to go.”

That part near the end was obviously a lie; no one who shopped here would describe him as such.

“Do I look like a charity to you kid?” Iwai shouldered his way to the door, fumbling for his keys. After all, he was here for a reason, and that reason was _not_ to add another complication to his life.

He meant to close the door quickly behind him, but damn if that brat wasn’t slick. When Iwai turned around to relock the door he was nowhere to be seen outside. Instead a voice came from behind. From inside the shop. 

“Please. Just for one night. One night! I won’t be any trouble. I’ll—I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ll sleep anywhere. You won’t even know I’m here,” he pleaded, his voice rising towards a plaintive whine.

“Does it look like I’m running a hotel here? I said beat it. I don’t need some punk hangin’ around my shop givin’ it a bad rep,” Iwai snapped.

The younger man made no sign of leaving as Iwai ran a hand along the wall, searching for the lights. “I can pay you!” he begged. He scrambled to pull out a crumpled wad of cash from his backpack and held it out for Iwai to take. He didn’t even stop to count it first.

“I don’t want your money,” Iwai growled.

“Then—then I can pay in other ways.” Quicker than sin, the street rat was on his knees, hands deftly tugging on Iwai’s belt. “I’m good, I promise.”

By time Iwai realized what was happening his jeans were unbuttoned and only moments away from being pulled off. “What the hell are you doing?” he yelled, slapping away the hands tugging at the waistband of his pants. Iwai’d barely touched the guy, yet he fell back like he’d been struck a lot harder. The man’s hood fell, and for the first time Iwai could see his face.

He was beautiful—or at least half of him was. He would’ve been all high cheekbones and doe-brown eyes any woman would’ve fawned over if half of his face wasn’t covered in dried blood and the ugly, splotchy stain of fresh bruising, one eye swollen shut. Even the jacket he wore, pulled up almost to the chin, didn’t hide the marks trailing down his neck beneath his jaw. The story of what he was running from was written clear across his face, and Iwai wasn’t sure he wanted to read it.

But there was no use now. He knew he’d already lost. Iwai scratched at the stubble on his cheek in frustration. Damn him for having a heart.

“You got a name?” Iwai asked, fixing his belt as he made his way around the counter, choosing to act as if a man he’d never met before didn’t just try to blow him.

“Nikko. Nikko Akiyama,” the stranger replied in a voice so small that even in an empty room it was almost impossible to hear. Nikko didn’t move, as if by staying still Iwai would be less likely to throw him out. Maybe Iwai would mistake him for one of the mannequins and leave him alone. 

“Nikko Akiyama,” Iwai repeated. Just another lost little lamb running from the shadows of wolves.

He rummaged behind the counter. Some things he threw into a knapsack while others he tossed to the side, mumbling to himself, until he found the bundle he was looking for. “Follow me,” Iwai ordered as he led the way into a back room.

The storage room was a maelstrom of loose parts and half unpacked boxes littering the floor and stacked half-assed on the metal shelves. A simple work table was pressed against one wall, covered in a disarray of order forms. There were no windows in here, only a door Iwai kept locked that led out the back. He half expected Nikko to say something about the mess, but when he turned around the young man was analyzing the room with a look he knew all too well: he was counting the entrances, the exits, gauging what he had to work with. How he could best run away if he had to. When he caught Iwai looking, Nikko ducked his head down, folding in on himself.

 _Someone’s done him in good,_ Iwai frowned. He kicked around some boxes, clearing up enough room between the work table and the wall to throw down the sleeping bag he’d found. When Iwai turned around Nikko was watching him with an empty, sorrowful expression, like at any moment he expected Iwai to demand something, some sort of payment from him, knowing he’d give anything no matter the cost.

“Look, whatever trouble you’re running from, you better not be bringing it here,” Iwai paused for a response, but Nikko said nothing. “And I’m not about to sit around and babysit you all night. I’ve got my own home to go back to, so you’ll be locked in. I’ll be back in the morning to open shop, so you better not touch anything, and don’t take anything. If I come back and find my shit’s been messed with I’ll be callin’ the cops.” It was an empty threat; the cops were the last people Iwai wanted snooping around his business. But Nikko didn’t call his bluff. In fact, Iwai was pretty sure he could’ve said anything, asked for anything, and Nikko would’ve bent over backwards to obey. Iwai crossed his arms over his chest, perhaps selling the whole intimidation thing a little too hard, but hey—it was better than waking up tomorrow and finding half his store’d been looted. “One night. That’s it.”

Nikko bowed deeply, perhaps out of respect. Perhaps to hide the tears streaming down his face. “T-Thank you,” he managed in barely more than a whisper.

“One night,” Iwai said, driving the point home, knowing damn well it was a lie. There was no way he’d be able to sleep at night knowing he let the poor kid crawl back into whatever hellhole he’d had just crawled out of. Or if he managed to find his way into something even worse.

Nikko looked up from the sleeping bag across the room. “I’ll pay you back, I promise,” he said. Iwai grunted, turning away before he had to look at the poor thing any longer.

 _This is gonna be more trouble than its worth._ He tried to tell himself he was no saint, and he certainly had no responsibility to help every stray mutt and kicked puppy that came across his path, but as he glanced back, the wall he was trying to build around his own heart started to crumble. Nikko lay beneath the weak light of the desk lamp, using his tattered backpack as a pillow. The bruising that covered half of his face took on a deep plum color in the light, and the dried blood looked like spilled ink running down his chin. And yet, somehow the faintest twinge of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Iwai had never seen someone look so relieved to be locked alone inside a stranger’s gun shop overnight.

As he left, Iwai tugged once more on the door after he locked it, just to make sure it was shut tight. “No one’s gonna hurt you here,” he whispered to himself as he backed away, thrown into the shadow beneath the sign above the door that proclaimed to the world: _Untouchable_. “Not anymore.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Call this fic a sunrise cause it's gonna start out pretty dark before it starts to lighten up, but don't worry; it's like a reverse snow ball effect. Instead of getting heavier and heavier, it's gonna get happier and happier. But in order to heal, first you gotta hurt, and that's where we're at now. 
> 
> I hope anyone who read this enjoyed it, and feel free to comment on it to tell me so!


End file.
